


We're All Just Breakable, Breakable, Breakable Boys...

by danceinstylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:59:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceinstylinson/pseuds/danceinstylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry does something stupid and ends up in a mental institute where he befriends three other messed up boys and he’s not sure if they make him feel crazier or more sane. Crazier. Definitely crazier. At least when it comes to Louis Tomlinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're All Just Breakable, Breakable, Breakable Boys...

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of my tumblr fics that I'm transferring to here. A bit angsty...I apologize for the tremendous lack of Zayn in this...but I hope you enjoy! You can also find me at danceinstylinson.tumblr.com

_They always tell you not to play with matches because you’ll burn yourself, or start a fire. But either way the warning is the same, don’t do it because you could get hurt. They never tell you not to play with razors though. They think it’s common sense perhaps, because razors are meant for cutting, because razors are sharp and dangerous and you should just know better. But they don’t seem to understand just how alluring a shiny metal blade is to a kid who’s surrounded by ugly things, who only sees things as ugly and dirty, including himself. He’ll contemplate the razor, because he’s fifteen and hurting and it just looks so pretty in the dim light filtering through his bedroom window as the sun sets. He’ll wonder how much it’ll hurt if he does it quick. He’ll wonder if he’ll bleed right away or if little beads will blossom up in a line like he saw a girl describe on the internet. Next he’ll ponder how he’ll hide his new mark, bright and red and raw against his pale skin. Maybe he wont hide it at all. Make up a story perhaps. His cat scratched him. He fell and scraped his arm. He accidentally cut it on something._

_Eventually he’ll start hiding behind big jumpers, jumpers that swallow him whole because he’s got too many cuts to lie about. And one day he’ll get fed up with it all and cut too deep and wake up to bright lights and men dressed in white. But it won’t be heaven. They’ll hover over him, and he’ll think ‘this is hell, why did I fuck this up?’ and his mum will cry and his friends will feel guilty, but it’s not their fault. Someone should’ve just told him not to go playing with razors…._

That’s how it started. That’s how Harry ended up in a psych ward with a roommate who _never shuts up_  and eats his weight twice over only to spit it back up in a hour. Down the hall there’s a boy who’s got OCD and massive anxiety issues but he’s pretty nice and he lets Harry hide out in his room (as long as he doesn’t move anything) when he needs to get away from Niall. 

“Niall’s not so bad,” Liam says as he moves the clock on his night table a fraction of an inch to the right. “He’s just very…enthusiastic. He means well, though.” 

“He’s constantly throwing up. I can hear him throwing up. It’s gross,” Harry says bluntly because that’s how he is now. 

Liam sighs. “He can’t help it. And don’t talk so loud. The Docs don’t know he’s still purging.”

Harry snorts. “How can they not? He  _smells_  like puke.” 

Liam rolls his eyes. “He’s trying. He’s been here longer than me. He’s trying to get better, okay? And you’re lucky you got him as a roommate. There are far worse people you could’ve been stuck with.” 

“Like?” 

“No one,” Liam says quickly. 

“Oh c’mon, you can’t leave me hanging like that,” Harry says bolting out of his seat. Liam flinches away and recoils out of instinct. “Sorry,” Harry breaths quickly. “No but really,” he says lowering his voice, “tell me who.” 

Liam bites his lip and eyes the door apprehensively. “Well,” he says softly, “There’s Louis Tomlinson. He’s a––he’s a sociopath or something. I don’t know. Maybe not. I don’t know anything about mental illnesses besides my own. Some say he’s just bipolar. Or depressed. I don’t know. But, he’s. Yeah.” 

“Where do they keep him?” Harry asks, brows furrowing. He’s been here for almost a week and he hasn’t met or heard of any such Louis Tomlinson. 

Liam bit his lip harder before speaking. “He, uh. He’s been in solitary for the past few days. Tried to runaway again.” 

Harry’s eyes widen a little. “ _Again_?” 

“He’s crazy!” Liam exclaims throwing his hands up in the air. 

Harry smirks. “Well yeah, aren’t we all?” 

Liam purses his lips. “You know what I mean. He’s  _crazier_. He breaks all the rules. Him and his friend Zayn just run around and smoke and hoard pills and––Stop smirking like that!” 

Harry bites his bottom lip and tries to hide his smile. “They sound like fun, Li.” Harry doesn’t know where the nickname came from but he likes it. 

“No they don’t. They. They. They break the rules and make  _messes_!”  Liam looks truly scandalized and Harry thinks its a bit adorable. 

“You’re cute,” Harry says smirking before strutting towards the door. When he turns around he sees Liam blushing and fidgeting at the foot of his bed. “I––I’m not––I’m not g-gay,” Liam stutters. 

It takes Harry a moment to figure out what he’s going on about and then he bursts out into laughter. “Oh God, Li. I was joking. I mean. You  _are_  cute. But in a kid way. Because you’re so naive and.” He laughs some more. “I’m sorry. I forgot you take things literal.” 

Liam’s cheeks have turned an impossibly darker shade of red and his eyes are glued to the linoleum floor. “I’m not that naive,” he mumbles. “I just don’t like messes.” 

Harry can’t help but smile. “I know, Li. It’s okay. Hey, you wanna come get lunch with me. I don’t really fancy eating with Niall right now. I mean, I’d rather not hear it all come back up in an hour.” 

Liam smiles shyly and nods his head. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.” 

They walk side by side down the corridor to the little cafeteria that belongs to their floor. Its got gray foldable tables with little round seats attached to them and bright florescent lights that are probably more likely to blind you than the sun. 

Liam’s eyes light up when he sees the trays of mac and cheese. “God the mac and cheese here is the best,” Liam assures. “Trust me. Mary makes it herself and she’s a cooking goddess.” Harry’s lips quirk up because he’s right, Liam is cute. Kid cute. Like that little brother that you’re just really fond of and want to protect from all the bad things in the world. 

“Awesome,” Harry says. “I love mac and cheese.” 

They grab two brown trays and slide down the empty line to where Mary is waiting with two hot bowls of cheesy macaroni. 

“Mhmm’d you hear that, Zayn? Macaroni.” Its a cool voice that meets Harry’s ears, but a hot breath that he feels on his neck. Liam visibly tenses beside him, and Harry turns calmly to come face to face with who he can only guess is the infamous Louis Tomlinson. Harry feels his breath catch in his throat and Louis smiles at him with perfect pearly white teeth and icy blue eyes that make Harry shiver. 

“Mary,” Louis calls over Harry, his voice humming like melody. “We’ll take some of that too.” Harry realizes he’s still staring, but he can’t help it because Louis is so––wow. And he makes Harry feel so small, despite his physical advantage over the boy. 

Mary hands over the bowls, and Louis hands the second one to the raven-haired boy beside him. Harry finally manages to tear his eyes away from Louis then to look over at the other boy. He’s a bit taller than Louis, and his hair is disheveled, shooting out at all angles. He’s got a slight stubble around his jawline and Harry can see a swirl of ink peeking out from the half rolled up sleeves of his jumper. “Wha’ you starin’ at, Cu’ly?” Zayn says pointing a finger at Harry and causing Harry to flinch and stumble backwards. 

Harry sees Louis shoot Zayn a look and then shake his head slightly before turning back to face Harry. “What’s your name,” Louis asks tilting his chin upwards. 

“Harry. Harry Styles.”

“Ohh,” Louis says nodding, brows quirking up. “Right, right. I’ve heard about you. You’re the one who tried to off himself.” A smile twists across Louis’s thin lips before he exchanged a look with Zayn and they burst out laughing. 

Harry frowns. “What’s so funny about that.” 

“Well it’s stupid is what it is,” Louis says between laughs. “It’s the easy was to get in here. Unimpressive really. At least Payne’s a proper nut, eh?” Louis swoops in and throws an arm over Liam’s shoulder causing Liam to gasp and drop his tray. 

“Oh dear,” Mary sighs. 

“Oh, sorry,” Louis says jumping away and not sounding the least bit sorry. “Forgot you don’t like touching.” 

Liam’s breaths are hitching and Harry can see there are tears welling in his eyes. His eyes are downcast, staring at the pasta and the mess he’s made. 

Harry suddenly feels irrationally angry and Louis and Zayn won’t stop fucking laughing––

“Can you two shove off?” Harry shouts suddenly, gripping Louis by the shirt and pulling him as far away from Liam as he can manage. “You’ve made a mess. He doesn’t like  _messes_.” Harry is seething. Liam is crying. Liam, small and naive who only wanted his macaroni. Liam who was _so excited_  for his macaroni. “Like fuck. You both are arses.” 

Louis and Zayn both dissolve into a new bout of laughter and Louis tuts his tongue. “Oh Harry, you have a lot to learn. Rule number one: don’t mess with us.” 

They’re gone before Harry can say another word. 

***

The next day Liam is still upset and refuses to open his door so Harry decides to try again with Niall. They go down to the game room and Niall picks out Candyland because its the only game he knows how to play without cheating. Harry’s quite for awhile and he lets Niall talk because Niall likes to and Harry  _really_  doesn’t mind. 

“I used to play guitar but I stopped when things got really bad. Used to sing too, but the throwing up fucked with my throat so can’t do that anymore…” And it goes on and on. Niall tells about all the things he used to do. All the things he can’t do now. And never does he sound too upset about it. His voice remains constant in the same upbeat rhythm that goes just a little too fast to properly keep up with. He talks about Ireland and his family and how they’re all really worried and it’s been almost 10 months and he’s not getting better. It should be depressing but somehow its not and Harry finds himself liking Niall more and more now that they’re not locked up in their room with Niall puking on the other side of the bathroom door. 

After an hour or so of mostly Niall chattering away (and far too many rounds of Candyland), Harry starts talking. Niall wants to know “the whole story” and Harry kind of wants to tell it. He’s told Liam the important bits. And his doctors already know. But he hasn’t gotten to just tell it himself yet. He starts off with his thoughts on matches and razor blades and goes from there. By the end Harry likes Niall a whole lot. 

“You’re right,” Niall says putting away the board game. “It is pretty shit that they warn you about matches but not about blades.” 

Harry shrugs because he’s starting to think maybe he’s just a really stupid kid. “Maybe we’re just supposed to know better though.” 

Niall scoffs. “Bullshit. No one ever warned me about throwing up. They warn you about matches but they don’t warn you about throwing up? How am I supposed to know this shit becomes addictive? They don’t tell you these things, do they?” 

Harry shakes his head. “Nope.” 

They walk back in silence. When they get to their room Niall doesn’t follow Harry in. “I’m gonna go eat. I’ll use the regular bathrooms later if you want.” His eyes are soft and sincere and Harry feels like shit for ever having a bad thought about this kid. 

“Nah,” Harry says waving his hand carelessly. “It’s fine. It’s safer if you use this bathroom anyways. Don’t want the docs catching you, yeah?” 

Niall grins tightly and nods once. “Yeah…okay, thanks.” And then he’s gone and Harry’s got the room to himself. 

He doesn’t really like being alone though because it’s just too quite and his thoughts are so loud and when he rolls up his sleeves he just––

His fingers trace over his scars, some white, some pink, and some still red. He’s always liked the way they look. Its strange to think. Because he also hates them at the same time. But when he gets like this, when he isn’t worrying about hiding them or thinking about what other people will think…when it’s just him and his head he thinks he likes them. Because he’s addicted to destruction. He welcomes the feeling of knowing he’s fucking up. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much. He doesn’t know why he’s okay with wanting it. Even now. Even after nearly a week in this place. Even after befriending sweet Liam and kind Niall. He still just wants to fade away….

There’s a knocking on his door and he frowns because Niall wouldn’t knock and who else would it be. He thinks maybe Liam, but the door swings open before he even gets up off the bed. 

It’s not Liam. 

It’s Louis. Louis with his cold eyes and wicked smile. 

“What are you do––“ Harry tries to sit up but Louis plops down in bed beside him. His eyes dart down to Harry’s exposed arm and his finger reachs over and touch. “Mhmm I have those too,” he says mildly and pulls up his own sleeve. He starts pointing to ones at random. “Fag. Worthless. Queer. Fucking-good-for-nothing. Better off dead. Came out. Dad hit me. The Divorce.” His eyes don’t leave his arm and he’s quiet for a few minutes. Harry can see Louis’s chest rising and falling and can feel the scorching heat radiating from his body and burning Harry on the spots where they’re touching. After what feels like ages, Louis’s eyes flick up. “What about you?” 

Harry can’t quite find his voice. He thinks he might be in shock because Louis––What is Louis even doing here,  _in his room!_ And Louis is an arse. A total twat. But here he is, looking quite vulnerable, having just confessed a hell of a lot. And Harry doesn’t know what to say. When he finally does find his voice––well. 

“You’re lying,” he says. Harry could kill himself right then and there. Louis’s face crumples and he sits up, scooting away from Harry. 

“I’m  _not_  lying. Where do you think these scars came from?” Louis says defensively. 

Harry doesn’t know why he fights back, considering he doesn’t even  _want_  to fight with Louis. “You probably just did that to yourself just now.” It’s a lame argument to make and Harry knows it. 

Louis laughs, high and bitter. “Oh come on, Harry. You of all people should know what a fresh cut would look like.” 

He’s right. He  _does_  know. Harry shakes his head and yanks down his sleeve. “Well whatever. You’re an arse and I don’t even  _know_  you so I don’t have to tell you anything,” Harry mumbled bitterly. 

Louis seems scandalized by this. “But I told you about mine!” 

“I didn’t ask!” Harry spits back. “ _You_  barged into  _my_  room. I didn’t ask!” 

Louis chews at his lip and stares at Harry for a moment before hopping to his feet. “Right. Okay. Sorry.” 

He crossed the room in four quick strides and then is gone. Harry blinks after him before settling back down against his pillows, shutting his eyes and exhaling a shaky breath. 

“Why did I just see Louis Tomlinson leaving our room?” Niall’s voice asks about a minute later. Harry opens his eyes and gives Niall a desperate look. 

“The fuck if I know,” he says, swinging his legs to the side of his bed. “He barged in here and started telling me about his scars. I don’t know. It was weird.” 

Niall’s brows furrowed. “He’s kind of strange, yeah,” he says crossing over to his own bed. 

“Do you know him?” Harry asks out of curiosity. 

“Well yeah. Everyone does.” 

Harry nods his head. “Obviously. I mean…Do you know him, like more personally?” 

Niall shrugs. “He’s been in and out of here for two years. I’ve talked to him a bit. He tried to befriend me when I first got here. He, uh––I think that’s what he’s trying to do with you. He always tries to befriend the new kids.” 

“He’s done a real shit job of it so far,” Harry scoffs. 

Niall shrugs again in that same easy and carefree way. “Yeah I mean, he’s not really good at making friends. He kind of expects everyone to love him. I don’t know. It’s kind of sad really. I feel bad for him. He’s got a reputation for being an arse and the new kids are always warned to stay away from him. That’s why he tries to befriend them fast, before people start talking shit about him. His only real friend is Zayn and that’s because Zayn’s been here just as long as Louis has.” 

“What’s wrong with Zayn?” 

“What  _isn’t_  wrong with Zayn?” 

Harry waits for Niall to elaborate. “Well?” 

Niall sighs. “Well lets see…Drug addiction, eating disorder, self harm, four attempts, depression, bipolar, anger issues and violent outbursts––usually during his manic episodes, used to have a drinking problem but not since he’s been here, and he claims he hears voices…but they speak to him in spanish so.” 

Harry can’t help but laugh at that and Niall cracks a smile too. “They’re both fucked up. But Louis used to be like, really popular. And funny. And everyone loved him and he had loads of friends. But not anymore. And I guess that’s hard for him to deal with. Like I’d be his friend but I dunno, I feel like he doesn’t really like me because I was kind of a dick to him when we first met. I wasn’t this cheerful then,” Niall says quietly. 

Harry hums because he understands then Niall reaches over and turns out the lamp on the table between their beds. The room goes pitch black and he can hear Niall rustling under the covers and turning on his side to get comfortable. Something feels off and it takes a moment for Harry’s brain to place it. 

“Hey, Niall,” Harry whispers when he’s finally realizes.

“Mhm,” Niall grunts. 

“I told you you didn’t have to use the other bathroom.” 

Harry hears Niall turn and he knows they’re facing each other now. “I didn’t purge today,” he says simply. And then they fall back into a comfortable silence. 

***

Harry doesn’t see Louis for the next few days and Liam finally comes back out. Harry, Niall, and Liam start spending their days together, talking, eating, and working their way through all the games in the game room. Liam teaches Niall how to follow the instructions to Monopoly and he makes sure Niall doesn’t cheat (he still does, but he and Harry don’t tell Liam). 

By two weeks into Harry’s stay, Harry’s gotten used to their little daily routine. He sees his therapist in the afternoons, but the mornings are all for time with Niall and Liam. Louis of course pops back up on the sixteenth day and offers Harry a cookie that Harry eyes dubiously. 

“It’s not poisoned!” Louis insists, hopping over the back of the sofa and plopping down next to Harry. “Mary baked it. It’s safe.” 

Harry takes a purposely tentative bite just to fuck with Louis. Louis shoves his shoulder and Harry shoves back and then they both laugh easily. They don’t talk much after that, but neither gets up to leaver either. 

Two days later, on Wednesday, Louis brings Harry a muffin, blueberry, and they play the same game, shove and laugh some more, and then sit quietly side by side, occasionally stealing glances at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. 

This pattern goes on and on, every few days Louis shows up when Niall and Liam are off at therapy and he brings Harry another delicious treat. They never really talk and if they do it’s banter, but on the ninth day of this Harry decides that  _maybe Louis’s alright_  and  _maybe I should talk to him. Like for real_. 

“So are you trying to earn my love through bribery or?” Harry says as a way of greeting when Louis shows up with a slice of chocolate cake on Friday. To Harry’s surprise Louis blushes and avoids Harry’s eye as he sets down the cake. 

“No,” he says rather unconvincingly and Harry just kind of gapes because Louis is  _fidgeting_  and he looks so nervous and  _oh God Harry is a horrible person_. 

“I’m joking,” Harry says quickly. “And even if you are, I don’t mind. I like your brand of bribery,” Harry smirks, and then he shoves Louis for good measure. Louis shoves back with his shoulder, though not with as much enthusiasm, and his eyes are still downcast staring at the floor. 

Harry bites his lip and wonders if he should ask Louis what’s wrong. If he’s even allowed to ask. He decided to just do it. “Hey, Lou?” he asks, not even noticing the nickname as it slips out. 

Louis doesn’t notice either. He just replies with a murmured, “Mhm?” 

“You, um, you okay?” 

Louis finally tears his eyes away from the ground and looks at Harry. “Yeah. Yeah totally, why?”

Harry shrugs. “You’re quiet is all.” 

Louis shrugs too. “I’m always quiet. We’re always quiet.” 

Harry shrugs again. “We don’t have to be.” 

Louis just stares for awhile. “Okay.” 

They stay quiet for a bit though while Harry finishes his cake. Louis turns on the telly and watches some sitcom for a while. When Harry finishes he sets the plate down on the coffee table and turns back toward Louis, his whole body facing him. “So,” Harry says clasping his hands together. “I’m Harry.” He feels extremely silly. Louis stares as him for a moment, blinking, before cracking a huge grin. 

“Louis,” he says, holding out his hand. 

Harry eyes it hesitantly and he’s not sure why. After a few seconds Harry raises his own hand and fits it into Louis’s. Harry cringes inwardly when he realizes his own hands are cold and slightly damp and Louis’s are so dry and warm and Louis is probably disgusted––He pulls his hand out quickly and wraps his arms around his middle, avoiding Louis’s gaze. He can already feel the prickle of tears in his eyes and the sting in his nose. He just feels so shit and God why did he think this was a good idea? Louis probably  _hates_  him. He already said he was unimpressive that first day, he––

“Harry?” 

Harry knows his lip is trembling, giving himself away. He bites down hard and keeps his eyes steady on the opposite wall. 

“Harry, what––what did I do?” Louis’s voice sounds so small and not cold at all and Harry suddenly feels  _so scared_  and he can’t understand it. He can’t speak because he knows he’ll start crying if he tries to but God it’s not Louis’s fault. Louis didn’t do anything. It’s Harry’s fault for being so sensitive and so fucked up. 

“I––I’m sorry,” Louis tries again. “I don’t know––“ Louis sighs in defeat. “I’ll just go if you want. I get it.” And he sounds so broken and  _fuck_ , Harry reaches out to catch his arm before he goes and Louis stops and locks eyes with Harry. 

“Don’t,” is all Harry manages to get out before the tears blur his vision and his hands fly up to hide his face from Louis. 

Louis sits back down beside Harry and places a tentative hand on Harry’s arm. “Hey, no. What’s wrong?” Louis sounds so lost, so confused. But he doesn’t sound like he hates Harry and that makes Harry feel confused. 

“Do you hate me?” Harry shudders between sobs and he feels so pathetic, so out of control. 

Louis’s fingers dig into Harry’s arm and Harry hisses because it feels good. Louis notices and releases his grip. “Shit, no. I don’t––I never have. I’m just. I’m an arse. And I was a twat to you when you got here but. I’ve been bringing you snacks. I thought that meant, you know, that we were friends.” 

Harry lets out a shaky laugh and scrubs his eyes. “In what world does snacks equate to automatic friendship.” 

Louis pretends to ponder the thought for a moment. “In my world of course.” 

Harry laughs again and then Louis crashes down and pins him to the couch in an awkward hug. “I’m really sorry if you thought I hated you.” 

Harry’s too breathless to do anything else but shake his head and smile. 

***

“So, what’s with you and Louis?” Niall asks one morning after he and Liam have returned from therapy. 

Harry shrugs. “I dunno. We’re friends now I guess.” 

“Because he brought you cookies?” 

“And cake!” Harry adds. 

“Whatever.” 

Liam peers up from the book he’s reading and Harry strolls over to sit beside him. “I don’t know, Niall. You were right about him, he’s not so bad. He’s lonely. And with Zayn transferred to the critical ward after his attempt I mean. He’s been really lonely.” 

“So that’s what happened to Zayn? Liam comments from behind his book. “I heard something about an attempt but I thought it was just one of Andy’s pathological liar stories…” Liam mutters, drifting off as he returnes to his book. 

“So you’re Zayn’s replacement?” Niall asks, raising his brows. 

Harry glares. “It’s not like that.” 

Niall shrugs. “Seems like it.”

“Why are you being such a dick today?” 

Liam flinches from the harshness in Harry’s tone but Harry doesn’t care right now because he’s on edge too. 

“I’m not?” Niall says mildly, raising a brow in almost a challenging way. 

“Well you kind of are,” Harry says kicking off the couch and getting to his feet in one fluid step. “I thought you liked Louis. If anyone would take issue I’d’ve thought it’d be Liam.” 

Liam looks up then at the sound of his name and squeaks, shaking his head quickly. “I don’t mind,” he assures. “As long as he doesn’t bother me. I don’t mind.” 

Harry turns back to Niall. “See? So. What’s  _you’re_  problem?” 

“Haven’t got one,” Niall snips, clapping his hands together. 

Harry snorts and strolls over to the window. “What’s wrong, need to purge?” 

Liam gasps from across the room. “ _Harry_ ,” he hisses. 

“What? It’s fucking true,” Harry says spinning around. 

“He’s doing so well,” Liam says in a hushed tone and then turning to Niall, “You’re doing so well.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, Li,” Niall says holding up a hand. “He’s right,” he says simply. “I do need to puke. But don’t think you’re any fucking better, Harry. You need to fucking cut so bad your drooling for it.” 

Harry’s mouth falls open at that and he wants to hit Niall, he want’s to hit him hard across the cheek and he knows he’s so fucking  _right_. 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m right, you know I’m fucking right.” 

“Shut  _up_ ,” Harry’s nails dig into his palm. 

“I see you in our room. I see you all the fucking time digging into your skin,” Niall shoots. “Liam sees too but he’s too nice to say anything. I’m not.” Niall’s eyes are dark and angry and he doesn’t look much like Niall at all. 

Harry wonder what he looks like right now, wonders if he doesn’t look much like himself either. “Mhm. No wonder Louis didn’t want to be your friend,” Harry says, voice smooth and distant. 

“Stop it. Both of you.” Liam’s voice is faint but unwavering. He crosses the room until he’s standing between them. “Stop fighting. We’re all friends, okay?” 

Niall stares at Harry long and hard before turning to Liam. “Maybe not all of us, Li.” Niall turns away then, hand wrapping around Liam’s bicep. “C’mon, lets go.” Liam lets Niall pull him away but he stares at Harry over his shoulder the whole time, eyes big as coins and so sad and confused. Harry feels like proper shit and he knows he won’t hold out much longer. He needs to deal with this. His way. 

*** 

Harry doesn’t have any trouble finding something to hurt with. In fact he’s given himself a few options. He locks himself in one of the stalls in the communal bathroom and lays out his tools across his knees. A paperclip he nicked from the front desk when the nurses were on a coffee break. A screw that fell out of the rickety chair in the lounge room. And lastly a jagged piece of glass that he got from breaking a glass himself. None of them were his pretty razors, none of them would do the right kind of damage, but it was  _something_. There’s a little nagging feeling in the back of his head that tells him this is stupid but he wants it, oh God he wants it.

He doesn’t know which to choose. The glass will probably do the most damage. But the paperclip is nostalgic…Memories of a younger boy dabbling for the first time in something that was far bigger than himself. The screw probably won’t do shit. He decides to use all three. He’s sloppy and does it right on his arm not even going for stealth. He can’t even think properly as his senses overload with the chemical release. His stomach flips and he can feel it tingle through his veins as he digs and drags across, pressing harder and harder until he breaks the skin. He makes a mess and he soaks through his jumper, staining it dark red. 

When he climbs into bed later, the lights are off and Niall is asleep. Harry doesn’t even bother changing out of his clothes. 

***

He gets moved to a solitary room a few corridors down the next morning. His usual nurse came in for morning checks and saw the mess on his jumper and then saw his arm. Niall looked disappointed, eyes sunken and downcast. Harry might’ve felt something if he wasn’t feeling numb and craving the chemical rush again. 

His new room is empty and impersonal, unlike the one he shared with Niall which was full of Niall’s football and rugby crap and colored of 50 shades of irish green. 

Harry lays in bed most of the day staring at the ceiling since he’s not allowed to roam around. He’s ‘lost that privilege for now’ as his nurse had put it. 

Its the second day of isolation that gets a visitor. Or, well, more like an intruder. He’s dozing off, half way between consciousness and sleep when he hears the jiggling of his door knob and turns to observe the door, squinting in the darkness. A moment later it swings open and a Peter Pan-like silhouette is standing in the doorway. 

“ _Harry_ ,” the person hisses into his room. “Harry, it’s me, Louis. I’m here to rescue you!” he whispers in a not-so-quiet whisper. 

Harry groans and roll over. “I’m sleeping.” 

Harry hears the door fall shut. “No you’re not,” Louis says his voice getting closer. A few seconds later Harry feels the bed dip down a little as Louis sits down. “Come on, I picked a lock for you!” 

Harry rolls over and sees Louis holding a twisted bobby pin. His eyes lock on it in fixation and Louis’s eyes quickly dart between Harry and the pin. “No,” Louis says quickly. “No, no, no.” 

“C’mon,” Harry croaks. “Just a little scratch.” 

“Fuck  _no_ ,” Louis breaths. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t used that on yourself already,” Harry says locking eyes with Louis. 

“I haven’t.” 

“Show me your arm,” Harry says, tugging up at Louis’s sleeve. “Show me.” 

“Stop it,” Louis says firmly. 

“ _Show me_ ,” Harry all but shouts. 

“Fine,” Louis shoves both sleeves up and Harry bolts forward inspecting his skin. All his scars are old and faded. 

“Then somewhere else,” Harry says sitting back against the headboard. “Somewhere I can’t see. Show me.” 

“I haven’t cut or scratched or anything, okay?” Louis sighs, his voice sounding a little weary and a little frustrated and very, very sincere. 

Harry shuts his eyes and reaches blindly for Louis’s hand. Louis laces their fingers together wordlessly and they’re quite for a few moments. “I’m so fucked, Lou,” Harry breaths finally, his voice trembling and is chest collapsing with his shaky exhale. “I’m fucked. I like this too much. I like it, Lou,” Harry croaks. “And I hate it too. Does that even make sense?” 

Harry opens his eyes and Louis is staring down at their hands, thumb stroking patters across Harry’s hand. Patterns that make Harry shiver. “Yeah, it does,” Louis says quietly. “It’s––You think you need it. But you don’t.” Louis’s eyes fly up and they’re so blue Harry feels like he might drown. “You don’t need it, Harry.” 

“I can’t feel anything,” Harry replies. “I can’t feel anything, Lou.” 

Something flickers in those eyes of Louis’s, and Harry’s not really sure what it is, but before he can even try to think or process it, Louis’s crashing down against him, lips colliding with his own. Harry is too shocked to react right away, so he just lets Louis kiss him, lets his soft lips move against his own raw and bitten lips ones. After a few moments Harry’s brain decides to click and he starts responding, moving his lips with Louis’s biting and pulling and opening his mouth for Louis. Louis’s lips are so warm and so soft and he tastes so good and Harry can’t even explain it, and he can’t think, and the chemical release is just––wow.

Louis pulls away roughly and sits back on his heels. “Could you feel that,” he asks, his voice rough and lazy, lips red and swollen. Harry tries to catch his breath enough to reply but in the end all he can do his nod his head yes. 

“Do it again,” Harry says breathlessly. Louis crashes back down, their lips connecting like puzzle pieces, but this time he trails down, sucking and nibbling lightly along Harry’s neck. “Bite,” Harry pants. “Suck. Anything. Just. Make it hurt.” 

Louis pauses for a moment, lips hovering just over Harry’s skin, “Alright,” he breaths, his hot breath tickling Harry’s skin. 

He bites and sucks  _hard_  and Harry groans and squirms because he knows he’ll be covered in bruises in the morning. 

They don’t go farther because they can’t but they want to. Louis promises to come back tomorrow and Harry tells him he’ll be waiting and he doesn’t sleep the whole night, too awake with the fresh memories of Louis’s lips  _everywhere_. 

Harry’s nurse asks about the bruises. Harry shrugs and tells her he must’ve been thrashing around in his sleep. He describes a very vivid nightmare that he never had and she seems satisfied with his story. 

Louis comes back later that night after Harry’s room checks and they kiss and suck each other off til dawn. Harry feels lightheaded and boneless when Louis leaves and he finally manages to fall asleep. 

His sleeping schedule gets all fucked up after that. Louis comes over after hours and they stay up all night. Harry then sleeps through the mornings and sometimes even well into noon. The nurses are concerned at first, but he just tells them he can’t sleep well through the night. 

Harry gets roaming privileges back a weeks later after and his scars have healed and turned light pink. He’s kept under watchful eyes still, but he gets to sit with Louis in the lounge and eat in the cafeteria. The bump into Niall and Liam on the afternoon of his first day back out. The two boys are sitting across from each other at one of the cafeteria tables. The cafeteria is virtually empty and they’re the only ones making noise, Niall laughing boisterously and reaching across the table to ruffle Liam’s hair. Liam doesn’t flinch away and Harry suddenly feels like he’s been gone for years. 

Louis guides Harry over to another table but Harry’s eyes stay glued to Niall and Liam as he walks. Niall finally notices them and gives Liam a nod to look too. Under the stare of their eyes Harry’s knees nearly give in. Those shit feelings start to well up again and he feels his palms slicking with sweat and his head starts to spin and––

“Hey, Harry,” Liam calls, wearing his usual sweet smile. “Louis,” he adds a little more timid. 

“Hey,” Niall says offering a wave. He looks a little sheepish and Harry understands because they never did quite resolve things. 

Louis pauses and whispers to Harry. “You okay?” 

Harry nods quickly and sniffs. “Yeah. Can we. Can we go talk to them?” 

Louis glances over at the table and then back at Harry. “Yeah, sure. Here.” Louis reaches down and links their fingers together, thumb grazing over the top of Harry’s hand and tracing those same soothing patterns. “Better?” 

Harry nods. “Better.” 

They walk over and Liam pats the seat beside him. “Here, sit.” 

Harry obliges and Louis sits down on Harry’s other side, setting his tray down, hands still intertwined between them. Niall’s eyes keep darting down to stare. 

“So you’re better,” Liam says turning to Harry. “Let you out of solitary, that’s good, yeah?” 

Harry nods, suddenly unable to find his voice. 

“Harry’s been doing real well,” Louis says for him. “How’ve you guys been, then?” 

Louis voice sounds calmer, happier, Harry notices. More alive. He hadn’t really noticed the change until now. 

Liam and Niall must’ve noticed too because they take a moment to answer, both staring at Louis with mouths hanging open slightly. 

“Erm,” Liam says clearing his throat. “Well I’ve actually made some progress,” he says brightly. “I’m doing better with physical contact,” Liam nods happily. “Mostly with Niall but––“ 

Louis snorts and looks down at the table, lips twitching as he tries to fight a smile. 

Niall rolls his eyes and Liam frowns. “What––What did I say?” he asks glancing around the table. 

“Nothing,” Niall says patting Liam’s hand. “Louis’s just being a tosser,” but he says it fondly and his eyes are twinkling a little when Louis looks up to meet his gaze. 

Liam stares at them for a moment, still trying to decipher what he said, but in the end just shrugs and turns to Niall. “Tell them about you.” 

Harry directs his attention to Niall and Niall shrugs and hunches forward. “Purged a bit after you left. Pam––one of the night nurses––found me one night. Spent a few days in solitary too but they let me out quick because I my incident was isolated and ‘I hadn’t had an incident in a long time’. So they thought. They think I’ve been clean for two months prior to getting caught.” Niall scoffs and Harry waits for the  _good_  news because there has to be good news because Niall looks…he looks like Niall again. “Anyways I haven’t purged in a week and a half since they let me out. And I haven’t been a moody shit about it either,” Niall says cracking a half smile. 

Harry laughs softly and Louis stares at him with crinkled eyes and a big grin and Harry can’t help but turn to smile back at him. “What are smiling at?” Harry asks softly, lips brushing against Louis’s cheek from how close they are. 

“You’re cute when you laugh like that,” Louis murmurs back and Harry has to shove him away because he’ll burst from smiling so big. 

“You  _are_  a tosser,” Harry says this time loud enough for everyone to hear and Louis just laughs and tugs on Harry’s curls. 

Liam looks on fondly and Niall just smirks and shakes his head. None of them quite get to their lunches but thats okay. 

***

Two days later, Harry gets to go back to his old room with Niall. That’s when he finds out about Zayn. They’re milling about, brushing their teeth when Harry decides to ask about Zayn because he hasn’t heard Louis mention him in, well…ever really. 

“‘Ouis ‘in’t ‘el you?” Niall says through a mouthful of toothpaste. Harry shakes his head and they both spit into the sink. 

“Got moved to another ward,” Niall says rinsing his toothbrush. “Got caught hoarding pills. He was out of solitary for when he tried to commit for all of three days before they caught him with a shit load of pills. They moved him out to a stricter ward.” 

Harry frowns. “How––how was Louis?” 

Niall shrugs. “Honestly…He seemed okay. I think…I think Zayn changed too much. Or maybe Louis’s been the one changing. They stopped clicking like they used to. They just didn’t work anymore. Normally Louis would have probably bent himself backwards to save Zayn’s arse, but. I don’t know. He seemed fine with letting him go.” 

Harry slides into bed and for some reason Niall’s words from that day all those weeks ago comes echoing back.  _So you’re Zayn’s replacement?_  He stay up all night and wonders if it’s true. 

*** 

On Thursday, there’s a new kid named Josh but Louis doesn’t try to befriend him. Harry watches anxiously all day, wondering if he’ll be replaced next, but Louis’s doesn’t bat an eye in any direction that isn’t Harry’s and they sit on the sofa all afternoon watching movies while Louis plays with Harry’s hair. 

On Saturday, Niall and Louis get into a heated conversation over football that Harry doesn’t quite follow because he’s always been shit at sports and has never followed football with any sort of passion. Instead Harry wanders over to Liam who’s chatting with the new kid about music. 

“Hey, Harry,” Liam says waving him over. “This is Josh.” Harry waves. “He plays  _drums_ ,” Liam elaborates with wide eyes. 

Harry smiles. “Cool. Niall plays guitar,” Harry says pointing to where Niall is turning red from shouting at Louis. “He’s the blond.” Josh nods and cracks a smile. “Why is he shouting?” 

“He’s crazy,” Harry says casually. “Totally deranged.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Josh says, nodding in understanding. 

“ _Harry_ ,” Liam hisses, kicking him under the table. 

“I’m only  _joking_ ,” Harry says, enunciating clearly. “He’s fighting with my––ah, with Louis over some football thing.” 

Josh nods again and Harry tries not to think of what he almost called Louis. 

On Monday, Louis and Harry lock Niall out of his room and they give each other blowjobs until both their throats are raw and sore. 

The next day, Josh and Niall lock Harry and Louis out and listen to music. Louis and Harry spend the day with Liam and Louis makes a mess and Liam doesn’t mind. 

By Friday Josh sits with them at lunch and Niall smiles more and Liam lets Louis sling his arm over his shoulders and Harry’s cuts have faded to white and he doesn’t even notice. 

***

It’s a few weeks later Louis and Harry are laying in Louis’s room, scribbling on each other’s skin in pen (a new habit they’ve picked up) and they decide they want to have sex…properly. 

“We need lube though. It’ll hurt like a motherfuker without lube,” Louis says staring up at the ceiling. Harry nods, still hunched over, doodling a little stick figure across Louis’s arm. “Have you ever…?” Louis asks suddenly, though they’re both pretty sure he knows the answer. Harry shakes his head anyways. 

Louis flops back against the pillow. “So you’re a virgin, eh?” he says with a sly grin. 

“Tosser,” Harry mumbles, poking at Louis’s arm with the pen. 

“Hey!” 

“Where are we going to get lube from? And condoms?” Harry asks, rolling onto Louis’s chest. 

“I’ll just ask one of the nurses,” Louis says and Harry whacks him hard on the arm. 

“I’m being serious here!” 

“So am I!” Louis cries. “Seriously. You just gotta ask the right one. They know we’ve got needs. They’re human too. They’re not cold hearted robots despite common misconceptions.” 

Harry just rolls his eyes because Louis is dumb but he loves him anyways so it’s okay. “So which one is going to be our good little helper?” 

“I’m thinking Rebecca. Or Louise.” 

Harry frowned. “I don’t even  _know_  a Rebecca or Louise.” 

“Don’t pout, you’re too cute,” Louis says giving Harry a quick peck. “But yeah, they’re night nurses. They do the checks when everyone’s sleeping. I only know them because I never used to sleep and they would always bring me snacks. They like me. They’ll help.” 

Harry nods his head and bites his lip. “Cool. Good to know your charming skills are useful after all.” 

Louis narrows his eyes and flips them over. “Shush, you love my charming skills.” 

Harry tuts. “I dunno about that.” 

“Or I could just not get the lube and we won’t have sex?” Louis says pulling away. 

Harry’s fists close around Louis’s shirt and pull him back down. “Or you can kiss me right now and stop blabbering?” 

Louis ponders for a moment before crashing down. “Okay.” And he pecks one, two, three kisses on Harry’s lips before catching them for a proper kiss. 

*** 

Louise gets them the lube and Rebecca gets them the condoms and both pretend they were never there and a silent pact is made that neither nurse will do bedroom checks for Louis’s room that night. 

“So,” Harry says awkwardly when they’re finally alone. He’s standing just in front of the doorway, hands clasped behind his back and he suddenly feels so vulnerable. 

Louis swallows and they stare at each, eyes flicking up and down and all over. Louis takes a step forward and then they’re both rushing towards each other and they don’t know who gets there first, or if they meet in the middle, but they crash together in a frenzy of heated kisses and eager touches and they’re tugging and pulling at their clothes because they need to feel  _skin_  and––

“Bed,” Harry breaths as they break apart. 

Louis scrambles backwards, tugging Harry along and then they fall down onto the little mattress of Louis’s bed and tangle in the sheets until Harry’s laying beneath Louis. 

Harry feels small again, like the first time he met Louis, but he’s not really scared. Nervous, but not scared. Louis’s eyes are wide and blue and and his chest is rising and falling quickly while they both stare at each other, suspended in the moment. “I really love you,” Louis says softly and its almost lost in the sound of his ragged breaths. 

Harry licks his lips and swallows hard. 

“I mean it. Not just because we’re doing this. Not because of any of this. Just.” Louis’s fingers trail down Harry’s sides until they reach his hips where he pressed his fingers down and clutches tightly. “I didn’t want it to slip out during sex or something. I just want you to know it now. Before we do anything. That I love you.” 

Harry can’t breath properly and he sure as hell can’t talk so he just nods and lets out a little whimper and feels his eyes tear. Louis dips down and peppers kisses everywhere. Over Harry’s eyes and cheeks and lips and neck and torso. Then he goes to each arms and kisses his scars. 

“I love all of you, Haz,” Louis says, his voice cracking. “Even these,” he says as he presses more kisses to the scars.

Harry feels so overwhelmed and so loved but he can’t find words, so he just curls his fingers into Louis’s hair and lets Louis make him feel good. 

They take their time, knowing that they won’t be interrupted, and Louis is gentle and slow, taking care to open Harry up and make sure it doesn’t hurt too much. He’s generous with the lube and he’s slow to enter and gives Harry time to adjust. It’s a little uncomfortable at first for Harry because he’s never been stretched so wide and so filled up, but it starts to feel  _good_  in no time and then he’s desperate for Louis to move. 

They start slow, building a steady rhythm. Louis’s gripping Harry’s bicep to keep steady and Harry knows they’ll be a hell of a bruise there in the morning. Harry wraps his legs tight around Louis and bucks his hips meeting Louis with every thrust. They both bite their lips and kiss hard to stifle their moans but eventually they give up, letting the sounds flow from their lips, grunts and moans and low whispers of  _louislouislouis_  or  _harryharryharry_  or  _I love you_  or  _yeahyeahyeah_  or _right there,_   _harderharderharder_. 

When they’re both close, Louis takes Harry’s length in his hands and pumps in quick strokes. “ _Come on, come on, come on, Haz,_ ” he pants, thrusting faster and faster, losing his rhythm and going sloppy.  

They come together and they’re breathless and shaking as the chemicals take over and bring them to bliss. 

Louis collapses against Harry’s chest and they lay like that for a while. Louis strokes patters lazily on Harry’s chest and arms and Harry tries to do the same on Louis’s back but he’s not as good at stroking patterns. His fingers are too clumsy and shaky. 

“Will you tell me now?” Louis asks after a long while, his voice completely shot. 

Harry glances down at Louis with furrowed brows. “Tell you what?” he asks. 

“How you got your scars,” Louis says, looking down at Harry’s arm where his fingers are tracing over the marks.

Harry hooks his chin over Louis’s head and bites his lips. “Okay.” He’s quiet for a minute, trying to think about what to say. He’s talked about why he started cutting, because he was lured into it…because it seemed like it would help. But he hasn’t really…hasn’t really ever talked about the shit that led up it. Or the reasons behind each cut. 

“Suppose it’s a lot like with you,” Harry says eventually, thinking back to the reasons Louis had given him. “Family was shit. Dad was shit. Dad left. Friends cared but I still felt alone. I figured out I’m gay and didn’t know how to handle it. Fell in love with guys who would never love me because they had girlfriends…I don’t know,” Harry says quietly, trailing off. “Once I started I couldn’t really stop. It started so stupid, too,” Harry says bitterly. “Not because of anything big or particularly tragic.” Harry falls quiet suddenly lost in thought, back in the memory of that first moment. 

“How’d it start?” Louis prompts after a moment, and his voice is just as soft and quiet. 

Harry sighs and cards a hand through Louis’s hair. “The boy I liked got back together with his girlfriend.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Yeah…It was just a scratch then. But I liked it too much and then I turned to blades.” Harry hugs Louis tighter because he needs it and Louis presses against Harry even though there’s no room between their skin as it is. “I couldn’t really stop after that. I cut for everything. I cut because I forgot to do the dishes and I cut because someone called me a fag even though they didn’t know I was actually gay and I cut because I was bored. I don’t know.” 

Louis plants a kiss on Harry’s chest next to where he’s laying and then turns to look up at Harry. “I’m glad you’re getting better,” he says, and Harry feels a smile creep up because he  _is_  better and he’s never felt this good and this happy and this loved. 

They fall asleep like that, curled up around each other, naked and sticky with sweat and come. 

Their awoken early––far too early––by Niall though, who hits them with a pillow. “Are you fuckers _mad_?” he shouts, his voice cracking. “Sleeping starkers and…are you still  _inside_  him?” Niall yelps tilting his head to the side and squinting to look between their legs. 

Harry shoos Niall away and tosses the covers over them. “He’s  _not_ ,” he snaps. “Now get out!” 

Niall folds his arms and grumbles. “I save your arses from getting caught and this is the thanks I get?” he says under his breath. 

Harry rolls his eyes and jiggles into his sweat pants. Louis tosses him his shirt as he walks to the door. “Let’s go,” Harry says pulling Niall by the arm. 

Louis gives them a nod and Harry stops to wave. “See you later?” Louis says. 

Harry makes a face. “No,  _absolutely_  not. We live on a single floor, what do you think?” 

Louis purses his lips and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, bye,” but it’s all fond. 

Harry and Niall tip toe back to their room in silence and their under the covers just in time for morning checks. 

***

It’s been nearly four months since Harry entered the mental home and he feels good and happy and  _alive_  and that’s when they tell him he’s ready to leave. 

“Leave?” Harry can’t really process it. “What do you mean,  _leave_?” He’s sat across from his doctor, a balding man who hasn’t really done shit to help him this whole time. He owes everything to three boys. Specifically Louis. 

“I mean you’ve recovered the most we can hope for and there’s really no reason for you to stay here,” his doctor elaborates. 

No reason? No  _reason_? More like every reason. His whole life is here. His friends, the only real friends he’s had in a long time. And his  _boyfriend_.  (Because yes they’ve finally decided to label it and that’s what they are, boyfriends). His Louis. He couldn’t just  _leave_  them. Not now. Not after. Harry swallows hard and tries to stay calm. 

“But I’m not really better,” Harry says quickly. “I still get urges. All the time,” he lies. “I still dig into my skin with my fingers sometimes. I cry a lot at night. I can’t sleep. I––“ 

His doctor holds up a hand. “Harry. I know it’s scary going back to the real world, but it’ll be okay. You’ll adjust just fine. And you’ll still have sessions with me every few weeks.” 

But I don’t  _want_  sessions with  _you_ , Harry thinks. _I just want to stay with Louis and Liam and Niall_. 

“We’ve talked to your mum and we think it’s for the best,” he hears his doctor say. “You’ll be leaving tomorrow.” 

He feels himself walking to the door but doesn’t remember anything after that. The next thing he knows he’s banging on Louis’s door and he’s shaking all over. Louis opens the door and Harry stumbles forward, collapsing against his chest. “They want to send me home,” he sobs, and Louis wraps his arms tighter. 

“You should go,” he says against Harry’s neck. “You’re all better. You shouldn’t––shouldn’t be dragged down hanging around here.” 

Harry pulls away and looks up at Louis, looks up at those blue eyes that used to scare him. “I’m only better because I have you. All of you guys. And none of you are dragging me down,” Harry says pressing his forehead down against Louis’s. “Least of all you, you hear me?” 

Louis nods numbly and his eyes are shining a bit. “You should still go,” Louis croaks. 

Harry pulls Louis back in and hugs him tighter. He knows Louis’s right but he wishes he wasn’t. 

***

Harry wakes up early the next morning and sits quietly by the window, the sky is bright blue and it looks warm outside. Harry knows Niall’s awake but he’s grateful for the silence. After a while Niall starts rustling though, making a show of stretching and rubbing his eyes. 

“Hey,” he says to Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry says back. 

“I’m not gonna say goodbye to you, okay?” Niall says shoving his covers off. 

Harry nods and hugs his knees closer to his chest. “Okay.” 

Liam does say goodbye. And he hugs, boy does he hug. Harry’s a little surprised at first, but he quickly melts into the hug and wraps his arms around Liam’s middle. “I’ll miss you, Harry,” Liam says. “But you’ll visit us, right?” His eyes are so big and hopeful and  _of course Harry’s going to visit them_. 

“Yeah, Li, of course,” Harry says with a small smile. 

Louis is waiting for him out in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back and a little grin on his face when Harry reaches him. 

“Got you something,” Louis says. 

“You didn’t have to get––“ 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Shush, Curly. Here.” He untangles his hands from behind his back and produces a single, giant chocolate chip cookie. “Like old time,” Louis says with fond eyes. 

Harry can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, nor can he help the misty film that blurs his vision. He takes the cookie and breaks it in half. “Here.” He holds out the bigger half to Louis. 

“No, no,” Louis says holding out his arms and shaking his head. “It’s for you.” 

“I’m sharing with you because I love you, you twat, now take the damn cookie,” Harry laughs as tears spill over and down his cheek. 

Louis grumbles but takes the cookie and then quickly dashes up to thumb away Harry’s tears. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

And Harry just nods before letting himself fall against Louis’s chest. “And I love you, too,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s neck soft and reassuring. 

***

Harry hates it back home. It’s too quiet and too lonely and too overwhelming. Him mum hovers over him like a shadow and his sister always tries to talk to him and he just wants lunch with Liam and Niall and music with Josh and lazy afternoons on the sofa with Louis. 

It takes a while for Harry to adjust. 

He thinks he starts to slip again so he visits the boys and Louis kisses him and he feels okay again.

Harry starts to think he may be a little too attached to the boys, a little too attached to Louis. The thought scares him and he scratches his arm. 

The next time he visits the boys, Louis knows. It’s the way he looks at him and the way Harry instantly feels guilty and the way Louis looks away. Louis’s mad for awhile and they shout because 

“You’re supposed to be getting better! You don’t want to come back to this place!” 

And 

“I’m trying but it’s not the same out there!”

Louis doesn’t get it and Harry stays mad. 

Harry feels himself falling and falling with each passing day and it’s frustrating because he’s not falling fast enough. 

After two months back home, Harry cuts again. Louis doesn’t find out because he hasn’t seen him since their fight. Gemma sees the bloody tissues at the bottom of the wastebin a few days later when she’s taking out the trash. She tells their mum and Harry has to see his therapist more frequently after that. 

It’s a few weeks later that Harry finally goes back for a visit because he finds out Niall’s not doing well again. Actually it’s Liam who calls him from the phones they’re allowed to use to make calls to family and friends. Harry never used them when he was there because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. But Liam calls and he sounds so upset and worried and Harry can’t refuse to visit after that. 

Its quite when Harry arrives. He walks through the main corridor down to where his and Niall’s old room is located. Through the little square window he can see Liam sitting on Niall’s opposite bed. Niall has a new roommate now, a kid named Ed who writes songs and sings nice. Ed’s not there though, just Liam and Niall. Harry can see Liam chatting away while Niall lays on his back and catches a pink rubber ball over and over again. Harry lifts his hand to knock but he’s stopped by voice from behind. 

“Hey.” It’s cold and guarded and Harry hasn’t heard it sound like that in a very long time. 

He turns around slowly, taking in Louis’s appearance. He looks thinner, his eyes framed by dark bags and his hair is disheveled. He’s wearing a short sleeved shirt and there’s a thick bandage over the majority of Louis’s lower arm. 

“You look like shit,” is the first thing Harry says. 

Louis smirks. “Yeah well. “ He looks away, eyes staring down the hall. “Didn’t think you’d come,” he says after a while. 

“I came to see Niall,” Harry says, voice static and just as cold. 

Louis lets out a high pitched laugh. “Li’s gotten good at lying since you left,” Louis says, his dead eyes locking with Harry’s. “Real good.” 

Harry feels himself stagger a bit. “So…Niall’s fine?” Harry asks slowly. 

Louis nods easily. “Yep.” 

“So…what, you wanted me to come down here so you can be a dick to me?” Harry snaps. 

“I wanted you to come because––“ Louis begins, voice rising before he cuts himself off. 

“Because  _what_?” Harry prompts. “Christ, I’m done with this.” 

Harry shoves past Louis and starts to walk down the hall. Louis catches him by the arm. “So that’s it? I get mad at you for  _hurting_  yourself again and you cut me out. You don’t visit. You just leave?” Louis’s angry, but Harry can see the hurt behind his eyes. 

“You  _overreacted_. And I got mad. Because I can’t do this. I’m still messed up,” Harry shouts back. “I  _scratched_  myself and you flipped out. What about all this, huh?” Harry says yanking up his sleeve. 

Louis’s eyes dart down and take in the pink cuts. “ _Harry_ …” 

“Shut up!” Harry screams, because he can’t deal with Louis yelling at him again. He can’t deal with Louis being mad. He just wants things to go back to how they were. “You’re not one to talk! Look at that thing over your arm. What did you do?” Harry’s words come out angry and mean but really he just wants to know. He’s terrified to know. 

Louis’s lip trembles and his eyes don’t look cold anymore. He shrugs helplessly. “I cut too deep one day. I was just. I thought you hated me. And the feeling made me sick. I didn’t want to feel it anymore.” 

Harry knows what that means and he feels like shit and he can’t even pretend to be angry. He crosses over and wraps his arms around Louis and hugs him into his chest. “I don’t hate you,” he murmurs into his hair. Louis’s fingers curl around the fabric of Harry’s shirt, gripping tight, holding on as if Harry would just slip away if he ever let go. “You’re a real twat sometimes,” Harry says a bit louder, and Louis lets out a sobbing laugh, “but I still love you.” 

The door behind them creeps open a few moments later and Niall and Liam pop their heads out. “Have mummy and daddy made up yet?” Niall asks in a silly voice. 

Both Louis and Harry laugh and Louis scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand and Niall chargers towards them both with his arms stretched wide. “I missed you, you little fucker,” Niall says ruffling Harry’s hair. 

“Mhmm it’s mutual,” Harry hums. 

“Alright,” Niall says pulling away and addressing he group. “I’m hungry. Lunch!” 

He takes off running down the hall and they don’t bother trying to keep up. 

“They’re letting him out next week,” Louis whispers to Harry as Niall rounds the corner. “Josh left last week. He was quick to recover,” Louis goes on. “Liam’s doesn’t know yet. But I think he’ll be out soon too. He’s been doing real well.” There’s a fondness in Louis’s voice, and his eyes linger on Liam who’s walking a ways ahead of them. There’s also an undertone of sadness. 

“Hey, I’ll still come and visit you,” Harry says bumping Louis’s hip gently. 

Louis sighs and looks down. “You shouldn’t have to. Shouldn’t have to be held down by a fucked up boyfriend.” 

“Stop it,” Harry says steadily. They both stop walking and Harry turns to face Louis, lifting his chin so that their eyes lock. “Listen to me, you’re not weighing me down. You’re not a burden. I love you. And you’re going to get out of here too.” 

Louis takes a deep breath and nods and Harry kisses him for good measure. 

*** 

It’s December and it’s cold and everyone’s wearing jumpers again except Harry. His cuts are all white now and though people still stare he’s okay with it. Niall’s been out for four months now, Liam for three. They spend every weekend together and as much of their free time as possible. They also visit Louis regularly. 

It’s two days before Louis’s birthday and the three of them make it over to the hospital with cake and balloons and plenty of those annoying noise makers because  _why the hell not_ , as Niall put it. Since all of them will be with family on Christmas, it was mutually decided that they’d have the party today. 

“Happy birthday Mr. Nineteen,” Niall greets, throwing his arms around Louis. 

Louis’s got a face-splitting grin on his face and Harry gives him a look because “It’s just Niall.” 

Louis rolls his eyes and gives him a playful shove. “No, shush,” he says but he can’t even pretend to be serious because that smile won’t go away. 

Harry makes a face and bugs his eyes out because they’re dorks and this is what they do. Louis shakes his head and pulls Harry in by the lapels of his coat and steals a kiss. “Can we talk for a minute,” Louis says softly, his breath tickling Harry’s nose. Louis’s eyes are all bright and sparkling and he’s not quite smiling but Harry can see the smile there. 

“Yeah, sure,” Harry says nudging their foreheads together. “Be back in a minute,” Harry calls to Niall and Liam. 

“Yeah, yeah, go do your boyfriend thing,” Niall says, shooing them away. 

They stumble out of the lounge room and walk a little ways down the corridor before stopping. “So what’s up?” Harry asks, leaning back against the wall and kicking out his feet. 

Louis bites his lip, fitting between the space between Harry’s leg. He looks up at Harry through his lashes and gives a small smile. “Well, um. Guess who’s home for Christmas?” 

Harry’s eyes properly bug out at that and he chokes a little before he can reply in a string of profanities. “Shit, fuck. Seriously?” 

Louis nods his head fervently and Harry springs forward and pulls him in close. “Oh my God, that’s great!” 

Harry catches Louis’s lips in a kiss but Louis’s too giddy and they end up just laughing against each other’s lips. 

“I wanted to tell you first,” Louis said quietly. “Before the others.” 

“Alright well now I think we’re going to have to have a double celebration,” Harry says as they turn back towards the lounge room. 

They tell Niall and Liam the news just before Niall cuts the cake. He stabs the knife down in shock and then pounces on Louis. 

“Woooooohoooo!” 

It’s only after a minute of cheering that he realizes, “We should’ve gotten more cake! THIS IS A BIG DEAL.” 

They let Niall leave to buy another cake even though he’s the only one who eats it. 

*** 

On New Years the four of them get together at Harry’s and they sit in his backyard despite the temperature and the snow on the ground. Louis and Harry are wrapped up in matching scarves and jumpers and Liam’s made hot coco for everyone. Niall’s rolling around in the snow making snow angels and surly getting pneumonia. A few houses over someone sets off fireworks and they light up the sky in dazzling colors. Niall joins Harry and Louis on the back steps and Liam hands him a warm cup and they all just watch the sky until it turns black again. 

Inside they can hear the TV count down the minutes, and then there’s a string of more fireworks when the clock strikes twelve. Louis and Harry share a simple kiss and Niall makes fun of them and Liam says it’s sweet. 

“New years resolutions,” Harry says, his voice a little scratchy from the cold. “Go.” 

Niall shakes his head. “Can’t tell you, then it won’t come true.” 

“That’s wishes you twat,” Louis says, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. “Stay out of the hospital,” Louis says after a moment. “And finally learn how to cook,” he adds, giving Harry a private smile. 

“I want to eat everything and keep it down,” Niall says loudly. “Also get better at guitar.” 

“I just want to get a puppy,” Liam says with a shrug. 

It’s quiet and the wind whips around them and they all wait for Harry. Louis nudges him gently and Harry shrugs. “I want to still be wearing t-shirts in the summer.” They all nod and look back up as the sky turns pink and purple and green with fireworks. “And teach Louis how to cook,” he smirks, nudging Louis back playfully. 

They go inside once the fireworks die down and curl up on the mattresses they’ve piled up in the living room. Louis is warm by his side, and Niall and Liam curl around each other like children. Harry suddenly feels so safe and comfortable and glad to be there. Glad to be alive. Glad to have failed that time that feels like so long ago now. His fingers trace down his bare arms and Louis’s still awake so he notices. His fingers join Harry’s in tracing the scars that got Harry to where he is now. He doesn’t hate his scars. He doesn’t hate them because they led him to Louis and Niall and Liam and that’s got to count for something.  


End file.
